


that you choose to let me be there for you

by cuteboyconnoisseur



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Hamuko Lives AU, Mutual Pining, Power Imbalance, it'll get mild spicy maybe but they'll be adults if it happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteboyconnoisseur/pseuds/cuteboyconnoisseur
Summary: "Please swear it, right now."Time and distance are not kind to a love as troubled as theirs.
Relationships: Amada Ken/FeMC
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	1. eleven

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

It took three weeks of working up confidence and hours of tired rehearsal in front of the bathroom mirror to ask her. Even though he'd said it without stuttering, he still kind of hates the way it comes out. His voice is too high; he can't help that part. But his words, they hold curiosity and expectation only accentuated by the look he gives her. Young innocence set in his round, searching eyes. It's disingenuous.

They're sitting on her bed. It's late at night, definitely at an hour when it's weird for a boy to be alone with a girl inside her room. Neither of them could achieve sleep, and they'd lost track of the time just talking: that was how Ken felt, at least. The desire to stay with her overpowers his guilt. Paradoxically, he hopes it's reciprocated at the same time he worries about taking up too much of her time. _She,_ however, reassures him every time he admits as such.

Hamuko is his girlfriend.

Hamuko _likes_ him.

Hamuko accepts him no matter his missteps, defects, and endless apologies. And if she realizes the intent hidden behind the question—if he is as obvious as he fears, then he can't tell. She smiles at him, folding her hands on her lap. "You mean in a romantic way?"

He nods once at the space between his legs.

"No," she says, simply. "I haven't kissed anyone yet."

"Me neither," he admits while a half-grin pulls at his lips, cheeks flushing a light red. It would've been much easier to contain the disappointment he expected rather than this surge of relief. Not that he has any reason to hide either from her anymore. "...Obviously. I'm still just a kid, after all."

"Why do you ask?"

_Play it cool._

"Oh, I... I was just curious." Ken doesn't know whether the tacked on laugh helps. Is he casual or skittish? "Sorry, I don't mean to be nosy. You're really pretty, so I'm surprised you've never done it before."

Hamuko tilts her head to one side, still smiling at him. "Thank you, Ken-kun." She moves closer, one or two inches eliminated to touch their knees together. Ken lifts his head to meet her gaze (he's small, so much smaller than her, he laments) as she inquires, "Are you interested in kissing?"

About a third of what she ever says to him are questions. It'd embarrassed him at the beginning of their friendship, when he'd been closed off and high-strung, unfamiliar with the notion that someone older than him actually valued his opinions. Now, it's one of his favorite things about her. It makes him feel seen: she cares about him enough to make the effort to _know_ him. If adults could be a fraction as considerate as Hamuko, he'd thought, the world would be a much better place.

If he had met her years ago, maybe he wouldn't have ever been so cynical.

But Hamuko, while a terribly sweet person, can also be terribly direct sometimes. Who was he kidding—of course she'd see through him. His body grows hot as he breaks eye contact again, too ashamed to respond with anything but "N-No, not really. Even though we're...together," (it's oh so lovely, how the word springs from the tip of his tongue, whereas next few are more of a drop and a thud,) "I'm too young for stuff like that."

He wishes he wasn't.

"I don't think there's a set age you have to reach before you can have those feelings. It's natural to be interested, whenever that happens." She then adds, laced with a chuckle, "I know I am."

"...Yeah, you're right." _Like always._ Ken swallows. The tips of his fingers dig into her blanket. "I still wouldn't say I'm i-interested, exactly. A lot of kids my age talk about that stuff, but it never sounded appealing to me..." Hamuko lays her palm on the back of his hand, her slender fingers sliding between his and curling in a loose hold. The warmth of her eases his nerves. "Or at least, it didn't before we started dating. But...um. I feel like, if it was with you—"

The boy flips his own hand over. As he looks her in the eyes, his shorter fingers squeeze firm around her dainty hand.

"I wouldn't mind, Hamuko."

His heart is fit to leap out of his chest. It almost hurts. Any second now, it'll pound so hard and fast that she'll be able to hear it too, regardless of how bold a face he puts on for her. Hamuko gives his small hand a squeeze in return, this one brief yet fond all the same.

She raises her other hand to cup the soft curve of his cheek. He almost jolts out of her touch with rabbit-like sensitivity, but she tempers his alarm with a brush of her thumb beneath his eye. "What are you...?" Despite asking this he can't find it in himself to not trust her when she leans in, swallowing him up in an abyss of ruby red, framed by the bat of her eyelashes. The reassurance found in her feminine features makes it too easy for him. So his eyes fall shut and he waits.

Hamuko kisses him on the cheek.

It is brief, lasting but a few short seconds, and utterly chaste. Her lips are a soft, foreign pressure against his skin that he almost doesn't realize he wants more of until she's pulling away. She grins at his bewildered blush and why is that enough to make him so, so—

"How was that?"

"...I liked it," he pieces out slowly; a compromise with the jumble of his mind. Pensive, his eyes dart from black pit pupils to land on the floor off to the right. Ken shifts, murmuring, "I want to return the favor. Can I?"

Hamuko bites her lip but it doesn't stop the corners of her mouth from turning up. She'd had to wear that expression so many times in front of him until the meaning behind it eventually hit him:

_You're so cute._

(It makes him happier than he's willing to admit.)

She sits back a little more, presenting her cheek to him with closed eyes as she leans forward again. It gives him needed space, but it also means that he has to lean higher to make up for it. His hands fall on her shoulders to steady himself as he cranes his neck up. How unlikely it is for anyone to mess up a kiss on the cheek doesn't mean Ken will be anything but extremely gentle with her. Her face is cool against his warmer mouth, but otherwise, there's...not much to say about it.

It's nice, he supposes. A small step forward in their relationship.

That's good.

He parts from her, yet lingers close still.

"Ken-kun?"

Before he can really think about it, his lips are ghosting over her jawline to give another peck, this one quick and decisive. Something like panic or delight spikes with the light gasp of surprise that evokes from her, and then he scoots back, blurting out, "That was—I saw someone on TV—" His brows pull together as he stares up at her. "Was that...no good?"

"I didn't dislike it," she admits, pressing a hand to the side of her face he'd kissed. "But there's no need to rush things, y'know."

"I know." He hangs his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm not upset with you at all."

In what he thinks is an attempt to comfort him, she pats the top of his head. What is he, a dog?

He doesn't stop her from doing it. It feels kind of nice with her stroking through his hair, her nails gliding along his scalp.

...

Hamuko gives him a funny look. "What kind of show were you watching where someone would—"

"Nothing!" he yelps then grimaces at his own volume. In a lower voice, he clarifies, "I mean, I just saw it for a little bit. It's not that I _usually_ watch things like...like that." And when he does, it's because he needs to file that information away for the future, for when he's older and able to treat her like she _ought_ to be treated by a boyfriend.

With a delicate giggle, Hamuko's hand returns to ruffle his hair, much more playful than before. "Alright, whatever you say."

He squeezes his eyes shut, huffing, "Geez, don't tease me..."

"Sorry, sorry." When she's satisfied with the mess she's made of his pale brown locks, she wraps her arms around him, humming happily. "I love you, Ken-kun."

Just like that, his indignance fades to nil. His lips part a sigh that leaves behind a warm smile.

"...I love you too."

In that moment, Ken is hopelessly happy.


	2. sixteen

These guys don't stand a chance. 

By the last quarter of the game, it's a virtually impossible gap for the opposing team to overcome, with a score of 1 to 3. In their favor, of course, but they don't let up the pressure for even a second. Neither does the crowd: if his mind had ever strayed from the ball, he'd hear cheers resounding, screams of his name reaching a fever pitch as Ken steals the ball and sprints forward. His heart is pounding between his ears as he weaves between two players, too slow to intercept. Someone curses behind him because by then, his foot has connected with the ball, soaring past the goalie to score one last point before the buzzer goes off.

Now, he hears the screams. Mainly to catch the one he'd be straining to hear—but he doesn't need to since Hamuko announces her presence loud and proud by being noisier than all the girls who came to these games just to cheer him on. He sees her standing on one of the middle bleachers beside Fuuka. The shorter of the pair keeps clapping while Hamuko, hands cupped around her mouth until the moment she catches his eye, grins at him. A confident smirk settles on his face.

One of the guys on his team claps him on the back, snapping his attention away from them back to the needs of his body. He's still panting, huffing out a laugh as he basks in their total domination of the game. After moving across the field to dump an entire water bottle down his throat and pat the sweat on his face dry, he retreats to the locker rooms with the rest of his teammates.

Once he steps outside in regular clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, Hamuko and Fuuka are on him immediately.

"You were on fire out there!" Hamuko exclaims. "I'm so proud of you, Ken-kun!"

"You all did great," Fuuka agrees enthusiastically. "Ending three points ahead? That was an impressive performance!"

"Thanks, you two! I'm glad you could make it. I know you're both pretty busy, so I hope it wasn't any trouble coming out here."

"Oh, don't say that." Hamuko steps forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes dart from there to her face; as he's grown to be two inches taller than her, he no longer had to look up to meet her eyes. "We wanted to come see you play."

"Would you like a lift back?" Fuuka proposes to Ken. "I drove us here, so if you didn't make any plans with your friends—"

"Oh," the other woman interrupts, her hand lifting off of him. "Um, I was actually hoping I could take Ken-kun out for dinner."

His eyebrows escape into his bangs.

"I know you've got that big paper you need to work on, Fuuka-chan, so I thought you should head back right away. There's a burger place within walking distance from here we can eat at."

"Ah!" Fuuka raises a hand to her open mouth. "That's really thoughtful of you, Hamuko-chan. But what about you?"

"I'll just take a taxi home. No big deal."

"Well, if you insist... Are you able to take her up on that, Ken-kun?"

Hamuko then turns to him, all sunny enthusiasm. "How 'bout it? It'll be just like old times, right?"

_Like old times?_

Was she talking about the nights she'd take him out to eat? When they used to go out together, just the two of them, and he'd always be terribly detached and gloomy to her (it wasn't just her, it was _everyone_ , but she...she was different), though she'd watch him stuff his face with rice dishes every time. Listening to him. He'd ramble insecurely and she'd ask him questions, too good at evoking responses that were truer to the actual him than his flimsy efforts to seem older. She could never leave him alone, it seemed.

What did it all mean to her back then, and was it something she wanted to go back to?

_That makes one of us._

Ken smiles.

"Sure. I'd love to."

After Hamuko had graduated high school, he'd seen less and less of her throughout the years. Working as a Shadow Operative kept her about as busy as he was, if not more, and their schedules had hardly aligned within the past eight months or so. The last time they'd seen each other, they'd hardly been able to talk either. Not at length, with Junpei and Yukari sitting between them at that time. The group banter had been kept up throughout, with the comedy duo of "Yuka-tan and Ace Defective" exchanging light-hearted digs at each other the entire time. And he didn't mind that. He'd enjoyed talking to them and seeing them joke around.

He finds that it's just as warm and friendly being alone with Hamuko, sharing stories and laughs over fried delights. Hamuko is as spry as ever when she tells him about what's been going on in her life and what the others have been up to. Her eyes shine with rapt interest as he in turn tells her about school and friends and club activities. It's nice to catch up with her, genuinely. 

Still. This, too, leaves something to be desired. 

Hadn't he wanted some time alone with her? It's frustrating, being so ungrateful.

Though they technically _aren't_ alone, as the other customers are within earshot. People would see this high schooler and this twenty-something woman sitting together if their eyes strayed not too far from their tables. Too public for his liking—just like with Yukari and Junpei, he can't say what's truly on his mind.

And she makes it even harder for him with comments like:

"You're really popular with the girls, huh."

Ken wishes he weren't drinking soda right then. Thankfully, he doesn't choke. He gulps down carbonation, pretending that's what makes his voice a little funny when he asks, "Why are you bringing that up all of a sudden?"

"Just an observation," she says with a teethy grin. "So many of them were cheering you on! Plus, there were all those signs with your name on them."

"Uh, yeah." He clears his throat. "They've been doing that since middle school."

"Since middle school?" Her eyes go wide and that reaction makes him wonder, had she really never noticed that? "Damn. I can't say I blame them. You've really grown into your own, Ken-kun!"

"Oh." 

A beat. 

"Have I?" he intones.

If Hamuko notices how half-hearted it was, she doesn't mention it. "I'm glad for you." She beams at him before popping the last soggy fry in her mouth. "Shall we be on our way?"

It's dark by the time they exit the restaurant. In the heart of the city, all skylight save for the moon is completely drowned out by their manmade surroundings. Buildings. Cars. Streetlights. Their shadows join the ground, mingling with each other as they walk side by side back to his dormitory. It won't take more than twenty minutes.

They don't speak for half of that. The thrum of nightlife fills their silence, and the few people walking around this area quickly pass them by—it's a funny irony that no words are coming to him now.

_What do you want from her, exactly?_

He glances over. When Hamuko notices him staring, she turns her head towards him. 

The corners of her mouth curl up as she waits for him to speak, sensing the intent before he himself realizes it. There's something acutely pressuring about it. 

"Can I ask you something?" says Ken.

"What is it?"

It escapes him before he can stop himself.

"Are you proud of the person I've become?"

"I am," she reassures him right away. "Of course I am. You're doing so well now that it's almost shocking to think you were that gloomy kid from back then. You're all grown up, Ken-kun." It's said with a note of warmth that normally would have made him smile.

He sets his gaze ahead. "That means a lot, but don't give me too much credit. I'm not done growing yet."

 _I'm not_ enough _yet._

She frowns. "I don't think you give yourself _enough_ credit. You're hardworking, athletic, popular...handsome, too—"

"Hamuko-san." They stop walking. He's not quite sure which one of them halted them in their tracks, but they're now standing in the center of a street lamp's shine. It's nerve-wracking, being put on the spot, but he did it to himself really. A lame attempt at a smile crosses his face. "I know you still see me as a kid. So don't...get my hopes up like that."

She looks crestfallen, and his heart aches being the reason for it.

"...I'm sorry, Ken-kun," she murmurs. "I don't mean to mislead you like that."

"I just sort of wish you'd follow through on the things you say to me."

"You know I can't do that. You're 16—"

"Didn't stop you when I was 11," he points out, crueler than he intended. The regret is immediate and softening. "Sorry."

She shakes her head with a sad, sad smile. "I thought you'd have forgotten about me by now."

"And go back on my word?"

Leaving her side, his foot invades the space in front of her, now facing her head-on. Two inches is substantial, he finds. No longer is his face level with her chest. He can stare directly into those eyes, confronting the blood red that had stained his heart years ago and hadn't gone away since.

But while his height has caught up with her, the rest of him hasn't.

Hamuko looks down at where her fingers tug at the cuff of her sleeve.

"...You probably should."

So many things he could've said to her then.

_I know._

_I'm not giving up._

_Please don't blame yourself._

Ken looks down at where her fingers tug at the cuff of her sleeve. As he takes her hand, his thumb presses against her fingers from above to hook them and raise her arm higher. She does nothing to stop him from bringing his lips to the flesh beneath her knuckles, planting a gentle kiss there.

"I can't."

The confession melts on her chilled skin. There's too much quiet following it: she gives him far too long for his own thoughts to start flooding in, only staring at him with a stunned expression. No anger or glee he can respond to—just a swarm of insecurities in the wake of his impulsivity. Of her ambiguity. All of it, agonizingly foolish.

But Ken is not an idiot: he is in love.

He is also, regrettably, a child.

Suddenly, he drops her hand as if burned.

"Goodnight," he mumbles and awkwardly bows.

And then, like a little kid, he runs.

"Wait! Ken-kun!"

He doesn't look back.

Following a mostly sleepless night, he takes a cab to her apartment and apologizes to her.

"I'm sorry about last night," he tells her sincerely. To avoid specifying what exactly for, he continues, "Don't worry about what I said. Okay?"

And he plasters on a smile for her.

For better or worse, she doesn't ask him to elaborate. Hamuko just ruffles his head and forgives him too easily.


End file.
